Waves

Out to sea, ebb subsiding,

feel the tide turning,

beware the undertow,

swimming too far from shore

for just one more ride,

one more flight, balanced

between water and air,

the soft landing in the wet sand,

periwinkles glistening in the sun,

smooth against knees, salty hair

hanging in locks like Calypso’s,

not Ophelia’s, never

Iphagenia’s, tendrils snaking

faceward, Medusa’s vipers

tame in comparison, Aphrodite

in a shell, born of foam,

dense bubbles bursting in air,

Poseidon’s sirens singing

beneath the surface,

music under the crash:

water collapsing on itself,

lifting mortal bodies

like some distant dream

of Helios

or Icarus,

before he fell.